Better Days
by Stephane Richer
Summary: I wish everyone was loved tonight and somehow stop this endless fight just a chance that maybe we'll find better days


Better Days

Disclaimer: I know nothing about how Japanese corporate law works, so I improvised because I'm lazy. Also, I own neither _Ouran High School Host Club_ by Bisco Hatori nor "Better Days" by the Goo Goo Dolls.

* * *

That autumn, Renge's world had crashed around her like an imploded building, and she was helpless to stop or even to begin to pick up the pieces. Oh, she'd sort of seen it coming, but she deluded herself into thinking that it just couldn't be true at all. Yet in a few days the world proceeded to kick her down a flight of stairs, with her engagement broken off, the company she had been groomed her whole life to take over bankrupt, her family's assets sold off to cover debt, and herself unemployed.

She supposed it could have been worse. They still had the apartments in New York and Paris, and she was able to get a US visa and a job rather quickly through the few connections she'd made that were still loyal. What they'd sold was enough to create a livable pension fund for her parents and enough money to get her started. Of course, her lifestyle needed to be adjusted with her income, but there were things that she found she could do easily without. A suit was a suit, whether from a discount department store or right from the designer, and public transportation wasn't all that terrible. Cooking for herself took a while to get right (for the first week she ended up burning everything and going out for fast food, but after that it was edible and continued to improve with time), but it really could be much worse.

Still, she missed the parties and galas. She missed her friends terribly, and though she still e-mailed Haruhi and Umehito fairly regularly, it just wasn't the same. She still had her online friends, of course, but as much as she loved World of Warcraft there was no substitution for the real thing. And she missed Japan and France terribly. Her parents had extended an invitation to Paris for Christmas, but she really had too much work. She'd just end up spending her time in Paris sitting on the couch, working, and her parents would be mad and disappointed and she would be mad and disappointed, and it would end badly for everyone. So, here she was, spending Christmas in New York, all alone in her giant apartment.

It hadn't even really snowed yet.

Nevertheless, on the twenty-third, she went into the office as usual. Many employees had jetted off already to their vacation homes or ski resorts, or had just taken the day off to be home with their spouses and school-age children. Renge's office mate, a short man called O'Connor, would be leaving at noon so he'd have time to buy a nice ham for roasting and pick up his children. He, too, had asked Renge if she would like to spend Christmas with him, but she declined politely. He was a nice guy, but they weren't really friends, and she'd never even met his wife and kids. It would just make things way more awkward than they needed to be. She'd probably end up going to a bar and getting trashed like she was eighteen again and didn't know her own limits. Some place would be open, she was sure.

But tonight, she was going to dinner with some Japanese clients because she, unlike the attending executives, could speak Japanese. The Sumiyoshi Group dabbled in many areas, but they were looking for help with developing a few pieces of land that they'd bought recently in New York. They'd talked with various groups, but Renge's company was apparently the front-runner. Still, the client must be pleased. The day passed amid deals and paperwork, and soon enough it was time to go. The sun had long since set (damn the winter; it got colder so much in the day) and the city was all fluorescence and neon, the noise surrounding her like a bubble.

They were going to a Japanese restaurant in Midtown, that apparently had a very good reputation - some celebrity chef or other had started it several years before and it had done booming business ever since. Renge didn't know if she'd want to go somewhere else for a few days and just eat the food she ate at home, but perhaps she just didn't get it. She just shrugged it off - there were more important things to worry about, like impressing these clients.

Yes, the clients. They arrived at the restaurant and met them in person (they'd just arrived that afternoon) - a stocky but well-groomed man, a petite and curvy young woman, a middle-aged man with a mustache and...Kyoya Ohtori.

Well.

He raised an eyebrow as they all introduced themselves. "It's been a while, Renge," he said in English.

"Long enough for you to still be quite familiar with me...Kyoya," she replied carefully.

"Ah! You two know one another?" asked one of Renge's colleagues.

"Yes; we went to school together," Kyoya said, giving his best host club smile.

This was going to be an interesting dinner, Renge decided.

* * *

It turned out to be quite pleasant. The food was delicious, and the conversation went without a hitch. Renge's knowledge of Japanese coupled with her and the executives' knowledge of business and excellent conversational skills won over the Sumiyoshi Group's representatives. All was well.

"Renge."

"Kyoya?"

"Come back to the hotel and have a drink with me?"

She smiled. "Sure! I'd love to catch up some more."

He offered her his arm and they walked along in the cold. "The hotel is only a few blocks away."

It was indeed a short walk (shorter than Renge, being perfectly honest with herself, would have liked) and soon they had entered the bar, which was busy but not overcrowded. Kyoya ordered a rum and Coke, and Renge a dark beer.

"I'm sorry about your company," he said.

She drummed her fingers on the bar. "It wasn't my company, still my father's. And we saw it coming, just didn't want to admit it and couldn't do anything about it. At least we have places to live and enough money to support my parents in relative comfort for the rest of their lives, and I found a job."

"Yes, I never would have pegged you for the housing development type."

"I just asked around. I was qualified, and I knew someone who knew someone. My roommate from university has a cousin who works in the company, and they had an opening...I was really lucky. But what about you? The Ohtori Group is still in business."

"With Yuuichi as the heir. I couldn't stick around when it was clear I had no chance, so I bought a start-up medical supplier, Yamaguchi, and it quickly became a top supplier to small hospitals and medical offices. It caught the eye of the people at Sumiyoshi, and they offered to buy me out. I said it was fine as long as they made me an executive, and now I'm a vice-president." The drinks had arrived; he took a sip of his. "That's it, really."

Typical Kyoya. Life gave him lemons, he bought an orange tree and his first crop was of superb quality.

"Have you kept in touch with anyone from high school? I still talk with Haruhi-kun and Nekozawa-sempai, but no one else really."

"Not as often as I'd like to. We're all so busy with work that we rarely have any time to ourselves, let alone to spend together. I see...well, just about everyone at business functions and the like, though."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

He shook his head. "As I said, no time. Are you?"

She gave a half-smile. "I don't know anyone here outside of work."

"Aren't there anime conventions here? I'm sure you could meet a nice guy there."

"Not this time of year. I'm not terribly worried about that stuff."

"Really?" There was an all-too-familiar glint in Kyoya's eyes.

"Are you calling me old, Ohtori Kyoya?"

"I never said anything about your age."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know, I'm twenty-five, over the hill, Christmas cake."

At this, he couldn't help laughing, and soon enough she found herself laughing, too, though she couldn't say what exactly was so funny.

They continued their conversation for what seemed like forever, ordering several rounds of drinks, and finally it was time for the bar to close. Only a few other patrons were left, quietly nursing their drinks of choice. Renge knew she was still a little tipsy, but she trusted herself on the subway. It would only be a few stops. She stood up and laid down a few bills from her wallet, refusing to listen to Kyoya's protests. Without really thinking it through, she grabbed his chin and turned his face toward hers.

"Things will get better."

She turned and slowly exited the hotel out into the cold and open air, and he did not follow.


End file.
